


To Be Alone With You

by thinkpink20



Series: Hallelujah/To Be Alone With You [2]
Category: The OC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkpink20/pseuds/thinkpink20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to 'Hallelujah'</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Alone With You

Seth Cohen is never early for anything, ever. He’s always the guy who rushes in ten minutes late, apologising profusely and offering his first born to the boss so he won’t get sacked.

That’s why it’s so strange that he turns up to LAX almost a half hour before the Boston flight lands. He locks up the SUV and makes his way into Arrivals, checking the giant screens.

No delays, which means he has less time to wring his hands and just enough time to drink four very strong shots of espresso. His bloodstream should be pure caffeine by the time Ryan arrives, then Seth will be so buzzed he won’t have time to be nervous.

Which he is – very. Nervous, that is. He’s been rambling all day, telling Michelle all about some show he watched the previous night on the Discovery Channel about the temperature of magma under the earth and the volatile nature of the Southern Hemisphere until she calmly interrupted, “Mr Cohen? You have no messages this morning.”

“Ah, yes, messages,” Seth had said, embarrassed, then locked himself away in his office.

Locked himself away until a few hours ago that was, when he emerged to drive home slightly too fast on the freeway, scald himself with the temperature of the shower, then drop the waffle iron on the floor when the phone (telesales) caught him off guard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite so edgy, or rather he could – when he’d first started dating Ryan at the age of 17 and the world suddenly seemed like a miracle.

He needed to get a grip. He was 26, and 26 year olds didn’t alternate between checking their watches and their cell phones every fifteen seconds, and because 26 year olds knew that airplanes don’t take short cuts to get places faster and other people’s cell phones don’t work at 56 thousand feet.

Seth sits down on one of the chairs in the waiting area and tries to stop his knee bouncing with nerves. The worst thing is that he has been playing out ‘Arrivals gates’ scenes in his head for the past two weeks, ever since Ryan called him and said he was done, finished with Boston, and that he’d booked his flight back to California. Seth hadn’t been able to sleep for wondering what would happen – should he go in for the kiss? Just a playful hug? A manly slap on the back?

If there is a book somewhere on Airport greetings etiquette, he seems to have missed it.

But even if he manages to make it through the reunion hug/kiss/hand-shake, where does he go from there? What if he suddenly forgets how to speak and gets an attack of the jitters and crashes the SUV on the way home? He’s still making the repayments and he doesn’t think his insurance company will be all that happy with him.

Of course, it’s all pointless speculation because he will probably just faint in a very girly, soap opera type way when Ryan eventually gets here anyway, he’s been so highly strung for the past two weeks with the waiting.

Eventually Jesus and Moses and the amazing gift of time drag the clock around to 16:45pm and the Arrivals board renews itself to read BOSTON FLIGHT – LANDED. Seth jumps up out of his seat in fright (knocking his last, half finished and now cold coffee onto the floor) and brushes non-existent lint from his shirt and trousers. He checks his hair (frizzing from the stress and excessive perspiration) in a passing mirror then makes his way over to where a small crowd have gathered to wait for loved ones from the Boston flight. Somewhere a small child in a buggy is screaming, and Seth feels like joining him.

It takes forever before people start to filter through the doors, and even longer for Ryan to arrive, half the crowd having dissipated by the time Seth spots a blond head moving slowly behind a rather fragile looking old lady. When a large Japanese family move off, out of the way, Seth finally catches full sight of Ryan, politely pointing out to said old lady where the exit is. 

Immediately, Seth grins. Only Ryan could ruin his soft-focus idea of kissing at the airport by being a complete gentleman.

“Yeah,” he hears Ryan saying, “Your grand-daughter will probably be parked outside.” The old lady is nodding, and she has her hand on Ryan’s arm now. In a rather extreme turn of events, it turns out _she’s_ the only one who gets to kiss Ryan at the airport.

“Please tell me you didn’t just join the Mile High club with her?” Seth smirks, when Ryan finally catches his eye and the old lady is at a safe difference. 

Grinning, Ryan abandons his trolley full of suitcases and before Seth knows it, instinct takes over and they’re hugging like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if thin elbows and strong arms don’t poke and crush the other’s body.

As if it was perfect.

Ryan clings on to him, and possibly they linger too long in that position for social decency but before they pull away, Seth feels Ryan smell his hair, and that becomes possibly the most sexy thing anyone has ever done to him, ever.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Seth punches Ryan in the arm. “Good flight?”

“Yeah, not too bad. Though I had to take the window seat – Elsie doesn’t fly too well.” He nods over his shoulder in the direction of the old lady when he speaks. The image of Ryan taking care of the elderly coupled with the rather cute smile he’s currently wearing rush over Seth and he realises he’s gazing at Ryan like a thirteen year old girl. 

He snaps out of it, then grabs Ryan’s trolley and starts pushing it towards the exit. 

“Where are you parked?” Ryan asks, coming up along side him. Seth tries to answer but ends up grunting instead. The trolley is really heavy. “Here, let me.”

When Ryan takes over, Seth shrugs his left shoulder. “Dude, I think I may have strained something with that. Seriously, what have you got in those cases? Plymouth Rock?”

“My entire worldly goods,” Ryan smiles, and Seth thinks ‘Oh yes, because he’s moved here - for me’ and he smiles too.

They make their way out to the parking lot, giving up the idea of taking the bus because they’re only in Zone C and it would be impossible to drag all the cases onto the bus just to drag them back off again. Seth scans the cars, desperately trying to remember where he parked, because he really doesn’t want to goof up so early in the reunion moment.

“So, you hand over the keys to the apartment this morning?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, sounding miserable at the thought.

“Ouch. Did you cry?”

“Not exactly, but I think I’m going to miss the place.”

Seth just nods, thinking of the amazing two weeks he spent there and the fun that was had in the quest to have sex on every available flat surface. 

“Fond memories,” he murmurs, spotting the SUV and squinting in the sun as he pulls out his keys. “Well, I can’t promise you a view of the Boston skyline but I can promise you clean sheets and a jar of your favourite coffee.”

“You went shopping for me?” Ryan asks in slight disbelief as he starts transferring his stuff to the car.

“Of course. I’m just hoping your tastes haven’t changed in the last ten years.”

“Well,” Ryan sighs, slamming the trunk shut and making his way to where Seth is standing, “My taste in _some_ things hasn’t changed.”

Then his fingers are on Seth’s hips and a heat which has nothing to do with the sun blossoms in Seth’s stomach and spreads right through his body. He never even checks if there is anyone around watching before he shuts his eyes and lets Ryan kiss him. 

More to steady himself than anything else, Seth clings on to Ryan’s neck and is glad a moment later when he feels himself being pushed up against his own car rather roughly. He shudders – no one does rough like Ryan Atwood, and no offence to any of his previous boyfriends (or girlfriends) who were all really quite nice, but no one kisses like Ryan either. Seth came to the conclusion long ago that in Chino there are special colleges of kissing, which hand out degrees and awards of merit. Seth lets his mind slip to the image of Ryan wearing only a Mortar board, holding a flimsy certificate and he practically whimpers when Ryan pulls away.

“No, don’t stop,” he manages to say, then drags Ryan back by the collar of his t-shirt and resumes the kiss.

“Seth,” Ryan laughs, breathless, a few moments later, “We’re in the airport parking lot.”

“So?” Seth whispers, trying to be seductive.

“So you’re almost humping my leg,” Ryan grins.

They separate themselves and exchange rather amused glances before getting in the car. The freeway is busy, as always on a Friday, but Ryan is already slipping Journey into the CD player and Seth thinks everything is right with the world. Apart from the lack of world peace and third world starvation, of course.

“I went to Pottery Barn and bought some new stuff for the bedroom, it was looking a little.. .. ..sparse, and the hallway needed a rug, so I got mom to pick one from the catalogue – you know how I am with colour co-ordinating.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me, you know,” Ryan says, and Seth feels a rather agile hand slip over his knee and up his thigh. “I didn’t come for the décor, Seth.”

Inside, Seth feels his chest swell.

“I know but,” Seth shrugs, “I wanted it to be _ours,_ rather than just _mine,_ you know?” He catches Ryan nodding in his peripheral vision. “Mom was really happy about you coming home.”

“I think she was a bit shocked I was staying with you rather than her and Sandy, though.”

“What did you tell her?” Seth asks as he takes the exit off the road to his street and pulls in the driveway. In the passenger seat, Ryan leans forward and takes in a full view of the front of the apartment.

“I said you’d asked me to stay and that I’d missed you, so it made sense.”

“Never mind the fact that mom and dad’s place is ten minutes away from The Newport Group and this place is fifty?”

“I think she bought it,” Ryan smiles, before patting Seth’s knee and jumping out of the car to get a proper look at the apartment. “You going to show me around, then?”

After a grand guided tour of all four rooms (bathroom, kitchen, bedroom and lounge), Ryan brings his cases in from the car and Seth attempts not to burn pasta in the kitchen. He’s usually really rather good at it, but he adds just a little too much chicken to the sauce mix and almost drops the wine, lamenting internally that it never looked this hard when Alton Brown was doing it. Eventually Ryan comes to save him, improvises from lack of a cork screw and within two hours of arriving home they’re sitting at the table with the porch doors open and the sound of the ocean filtering in.

“This place is gorgeous.”

“You think so?” Seth was half expecting for them to decide on getting somewhere bigger. It’s always been enough for him, but he wasn’t sure if Ryan would fancy sidestepping around another body to get from the sink to the shower.

“Yeah, and I’ve missed the beach.”

“I hope that’s not all you’ve missed.” Seth winks in a rather camp, over-exaggerated manner, and Ryan slides his sock clad foot up Seth’s calf underneath the table.

“Well why don’t you remind me of what’s on offer?”

Just as Seth is about to lean over for a kiss, the phone rings and he jogs to the lounge to get it.

When he returns to his half-eaten food five minutes later, his shoulders have slumped and he’s pouting slightly.

“What’s up?” Ryan asks, taking a drink of his wine.

“That was mom on the phone.”

“Oh crap, I should have called her, shouldn’t I? To let her know I landed safely.”

“It’s worse than that.” Seth pushes his food around on his plate listlessly. “They want us to go down there to see them. Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Ryan disappears into the kitchen with his empty plate and when he comes back he stands behind Seth’s chair, hands slipping to massage Seth’s shoulders. “But I thought we were going to – “

“Have wild sex until neither of us could sit down for a week?” Seth interjects.

“Well, I was thinking more a walk on the beach and an early night, but – “ Ryan leans down and leaves a gentle, lingering kiss on Seth’s neck “whatever works for you.”

“And now the parental unit have ruined it all. Mom even scoffed when I suggested you were jet lagged and that you needed sleep.”

“Well, it was only a six hour flight, and it wouldn’t really hit me until tomorrow anyway, so – “

“Ugh. Fine, fine,” Seth grumbles, turning around in his chair and gazing up at Ryan. “I just wanted you to myself.”

“Well, we don’t have to leave right away, do we?”

Seth seriously considers divorcing his parents as he falls onto the sofa and Ryan climbs on top of him. He’s already picked out an attorney to represent him by the time Ryan’s lips have reached his navel and the phone starts ringing _again._

“You haven’t left yet?” Kirsten asks, and Seth makes stabbing motions with his arm. 

“No, we’re just cleaning up after dinner,” Ryan says in his best I’m-not-involved-in-foreplay-with-your-son voice.

“Well don’t forget to bring the pictures of the theatre for Sandy to see, and dad is here so I want to show him just what an asset we’re getting for the company.” She sounds like she is smiling, and if Seth isn’t completely mistaken, he thinks Ryan blushes a little bit at that comment.

“Will do. We’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, don’t be too late!”

When Ryan has hung up, Seth gives him that ‘Now, where were we?’ look, and continues to unzip Ryan’s trousers, but two hands soon stop him.

“We can’t, Seth, we have to go.”

It takes everything he has to stop Seth being petulant. He makes a mental note to call that attorney and get the case moving.

“Okay,” he relents.

Ryan insists on washing the dishes while Seth gets changed quickly, then they take the drive down to Newport Beach, which lasts longer because of the traffic, but gives them an excuse to kiss when the freeway is so full the cars are at a stand still.

Pulling into the Cohen’s driveway, Seth parks next to Caleb’s car and they’re in the hallway all of two seconds before Kirsten is rushing through from the kitchen, beaming at Ryan. She holds him tighter than Seth did at the airport and moments later, Sandy and Caleb appear.

“How are you, sweetie?” Kirsten asks, brushing back Ryan’s hair.

“I’m good, thanks.” He looks embarrassed at the attention, but when Sandy comes over, Ryan hugs him too, and Seth sees he has his eyes closed, like he’s glad to be home.

Seth sits back and just listens when they go through to the lounge and conversation turns to The Newport Group. Ryan looks enthusiastic as Caleb tells him plans for the future and Seth ponders how things will be when everyone _knows_ about them. In all honesty, along with the Arrivals gate moment, it’s what Seth has been thinking about most for the past few months. Apart from the pseudo-brothers issue, Seth doesn’t think the Newpsies are ready for yet another coming-out scandal.

Eventually talk turns to food, and Sandy makes omelettes for everyone, which Ryan helps out with. It feels very strange to Seth, being back at ‘home’ with Ryan here, sharing the occasional swift glance. In the kitchen while Seth is at the sink, Ryan somehow manages to graze his ass, at which point Seth jumps, and Kirsten looks at him like he’s crazy. They haven’t done this undercover thing for the longest time, and the zing of secrecy that used to accompany it, coupled with the fact he’d had a night of lustful passion etched into his diary, makes Seth just a little aroused.

Of course, watching Ryan wink at him when no one’s looking doesn’t help, and Seth starts thinking of ways to get the hell out of there, pull the car over on the way home and fuck on the backseat.

Ryan solves all that for him though.

“Do you still have that pile of my clothes in the pool house?” Ryan asks, just as Kirsten and Caleb get talking about the next big design deal they’re making.

“Sure, honey, it’s in the new wardrobe against the wall.”

When he feels a sharp jab in his side and Ryan nods at the door, Seth gets up and follows.

They make it just inside the dark pool house before Ryan is grabbing at handfuls of Seth and they’re wrapped up in each other, mouths hot and eager. The noise of Ryan panting slightly in the pitch black makes Seth’s knees weak.

“Whoa, déjà vu,” Seth whispers. Ryan doesn’t seem to be much interested in conversation though, and his fingers are already moving expertly over the buttons on Seth’s shirt. “See? My ‘sex at home’ plan was much better, wasn’t it?”

Ryan pauses briefly to glare. “Are you going to talk at me, or kiss me?”

Seth pretends to mull it over then takes Ryan’s face between his hands and kisses him forcefully. 

The layout of the pool house has been changed since Ryan was a resident there but somehow they both find their way fumbling and pushing to the bathroom, where Seth slams the door behind him and leans against the wall for support. Ryan is _biting_ his neck, and there are going to be really obvious teeth marks if someone doesn’t put a stop to proceedings soon. Of course, Seth’s brain would take over and be practical if he weren’t thinking with the contents of his pants and moaning rather loudly at the feel of Ryan’s palm rubbing against his cock over his the material of his jeans.

There really isn’t any time for preamble as Ryan quits Seth’s neck and leaves one final, rough kiss on Seth’s parted lips. Then he’s dropping to his knees and impatient fingers are pulling at the button on Seth’s jeans, tugging the denim down around rather unsteady ankles and even though it’s dark and he can’t see a damn thing, Seth shuts his eyes.

Suddenly the only thing that matters is warm breath ghosting across the sensitised flesh of his cock, which has been achingly hard since he realised where this was leading. It’s been far too long with only phone sex between them, Seth is tired of jerking himself off. But now a pair of wet lips are sealing themselves around his shaft and Ryan’s tongue is swirling around him whilst expert fingers run over his thighs and up, cupping his balls. This is what he’s been imagining since those two weeks in Boston.

Seth groans loudly when Ryan’s hand wraps around the base of his erection and the mouth that is so warm and tight starts taking him in, as far as possible before pulling back and teasing his head, then plunging back in again. He’s being very loud and after a moment Ryan pulls away.

“Fuck Seth, shut up!”

Stupidly, Seth moans in response, and his fingers scrape through Ryan’s hair, trying to guide his lips back where they came from. Ryan complies and soon that tight suction is back accompanied by the occasional slurping noise and Seth is pleased with himself that he manages to keep quiet when Ryan speeds up and shoots of pleasure start to build low in his stomach. 

Seth tries not to pant so noisily but his breathing is well and truly fucked and when he comes, he’s chanting ‘yes yes yes’ but it’s only a whisper. Ryan swallows again and again and when he stands up for a kiss, Seth can taste himself on Ryan’s tongue.

There is more frantic kissing as Seth pulls himself out of his comedown and feels for the zip on Ryan’s trousers.

“Haven’t got time,” Ryan says, batting him away, but Seth doesn’t much listen because his hand is brushing Ryan’s crotch and he can feel how hard he is. Ryan’s not going back into the lounge to talk business with the family when he’s this far gone.

“Ssshh,” Seth says against his lips. He makes short work of the layers of fabric getting in the way and as soon as he takes Ryan’s cock in his hand, Ryan’s mouth is back on his, kissing him desperately and muffling gasps between their lips as they slide against each other. It’s hurried and it’s fast and Seth can feel the muscles in his arm contract as he moves his hand faster, dredging up notes from his memory of how Ryan likes it but it doesn’t really matter because Seth knows that right now, Ryan will like anything. Anything that is friction, anyway.

“Seth.. .. ..Seth – now.”

Though he’s just come and he should probably be _sleeping_ right now, Seth’s dick jumps when he hears Ryan say his name like that, all breathless and on the edge. By some miracle that suggests he has seriously grown in stealth, Seth manages to keep any suspicious stains off Ryan’s clothes.

While Seth is washing his hands, Ryan splashes cold water on his face and pats his hair down in the mirror. Now the light has been flicked on, Seth can see that they both look pretty much like crap. Ryan has dark circles forming under his eyes and Seth’s shirt is creased, no matter how much smoothing down he does.

“Uh, tired,” Ryan complains, running a hand over his face. He looks it, and Seth leans over to kiss him on the cheek, which turns into a hug, and when Ryan doesn’t move for a minute, Seth worries he’s fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“Come on buddy, let’s go home.”

Excuses of jet lag are made, offers to stay the night are given out but eventually Seth gets them out on the freeway with the windows rolled down. Ryan doses in the passenger seat, head to one side, but Seth feels strangely fine, not sleepy at all. He knows his mother wanted them to stay there tonight, but it’s their first night together as a proper couple, and he wants it to be in his - _their_ \- own bed.

The night sky has a tinge of yellow from the Santa Monica street lamps as they pull into the driveway. Seth shakes Ryan’s shoulder whilst trying not to gaze at him in a suitably cheesy, romantic way, and when they make it inside, the bed is warm and inviting. Sleep hits Seth as soon as he feels Ryan curl around him and start snoring near his shoulder. 

\-----------------------

Seth had probably forgotten about how difficult it was sharing close living quarters with Ryan. First there is the obsessive cleanliness, then the desire for order and neatness which borders on OCD, and of course the strange dedication to work. When he’s not looking over plans, he’s drawing little pictures of shopping malls or houses on the grocery list. Seth doesn’t complain though, because where as he hasn’t much progressed from barbequing a few things, Ryan is now practically a chef. Every night there is a new, fantastic concoction, and the expense of buying frozen ready meals has all but disappeared.

At first they both have time off work – Seth checks into the office with phone calls every now and then and Ryan does his research for the Newport Group, but mostly they’re free. Seth tries not to think too much about it because he hates getting sappy but it’s not much short of wonderful to have Ryan around again. It’s strange how quickly they fall back into their old routine and for a while, Seth can kid himself on that he’s actually still in high school, just with his own place and a lack of homework. 

Friday nights Seth takes Ryan to all his favourite bars and introduces him to his friends (some of whom are ex-boyfriends, but Ryan is completely civil and heroic about it all) and on Sundays they watch old films on TCM before going for a walk on the pier and getting pizza slices for dinner (the really big, quarter-sized ones because either Seth is returning to his youth and the excessive need for food all teenage boys seem to develop, or really they’re just refuelling from all the heavy sex sessions that now seem to fill their days).

It’s like bliss – Ryan listens when he talks endlessly about work (and even starts reading comics again, Seth finds one morning when he gets out of the shower, towelling his hair. Ryan is at the breakfast bar with a bagel in his hand, enthralled. “You wrote this?” he asks in disbelief, and Seth adds that to the list of ‘things that are better than when I was in High School’.) Ryan also picks up the slack with the parents, calling them every few days and passing on messages from Seth (which prompts Seth to note that Ryan is a lot like his personal secretary, at which point Ryan glares), and the section of Seth’s brain that used to bury all his emotional turmoil with Ryan is now gone, meaning he has room to worry about other things, like the fact Ryan has slipped even further into Easy Listening and owns several Dido albums.

“She’s like a leech on society, Ryan.”

“I think that’s just a _slight_ exaggeration, don’t you?”

“No. No, there is no exaggerating where she’s concerned. It’s mindless, Ryan. It’s elevator music and people are listening to it in their _own homes._ It’s not happening under my roof.”

Seth hides the albums underneath the sink with the garbage bags and the household polish, then kicks himself when he realises Ryan is the only one who goes in that cupboard anyway.

So it’s all going perfectly until their two weeks of holiday is up and work looms on the horizon.

“That was Kirsten on the phone again.”

“Oh?” Seth checks on what is in the pot Ryan has on the stove but has his hand slapped.

“It won’t cook if you open the lid. Yeah, she was talking about me moving out there again.”

“What did you say?” Seth sneaks a glance through the steamed glass lid and thinks he spies soup.

“I did that mumbling, non-committal thing you taught me.”

“Ah, yes, the non-committal noise. It’s got me out of a fair few Newpsie dinners, Ryan.”

“I don’t doubt it, but I can tell she thinks it’s strange I’m still sleeping on your couch two weeks after arriving here. She keeps asking about my back.”

“It’s a mothering thing,” Seth shrugs, “She’s thinking about your posture.”

“It must seem strange, though,” Ryan says, more to himself than Seth. “It’s going to get worse when I start work tomorrow, she’s going to question me about the rental car and the long drive.. .. ..”

For a moment Seth thinks Ryan is just discussing the problem with himself, going over the facts, but when he looks up, he finds he’s being stared at.

“What?”

“The problem. Aren’t you even listening?”

“Of course I’m listening,” Seth bristles. “I don’t know what you want me to say, dude. We haven’t really discussed telling the parents but I’m guessing we need to do it. Soon. Then the problem will be solved.”

Though of course that opens up a whole other problem (can open, worms everywhere, as Chandler would say), the problem of telling the Sandy and the Kirsten. Seth knows that during all the hot love making sessions and the nights falling asleep in front of the TV together this week, he’s been burying his head in the sand. Ryan hasn’t mentioned it so he hasn’t mentioned it, because no one wants to be the one to point out the fricking giant elephant, for Gods sake.

Scratch that, the fricking giant _pink_ elephant.

“Yeah, but until then, things are going to be weird.” Ryan has wandered back into the lounge and Seth is left with the food simmering away on the stove. He goes to lift the lid for a proper look and Ryan’s voice calls out, “It won’t cook properly, Seth!” 

Seth pouts and walks away.

Ryan is right, (which Seth thinks is still as simultaneously comforting and annoying as it was ten years ago) things do get weird. Four weeks pass and things get _very_ weird. Kirsten gets suspicious and one afternoon, just as Seth is trying to put a name to his latest villain, Michelle buzzes through on the intercom.

“Mr Cohen?”

“Yeah?”

“Your mother is on line one, Sir. Should I put her through?”

Seth screws up his face and scrunches his nose in displeasure then puts on his best sing-song voice. “Sure Michelle, go ahead!”

When the call button starts blinking green on his phone he picks up.

“Hey mom.”

“Hey Seth, is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Okay, well, I need to talk to you about something.”

It’s the conversation Seth has been expecting all week. Ryan has been coming home every night reporting an atmosphere over the coffee in the staff room at lunch. He says Kirsten is questioning him and whenever he tells Seth this, he loosens his tie and undoes his top button, which Seth takes as a bad sign.

“Uh-huh. Go ahead.”

Kirsten proceeds to unburden herself and Seth proceeds to chew his pencil until wood splinters in his mouth and he has to spit shards of pencil all over the desk.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah, fine, just broke a pencil. Go on.”

And she does. She tells him she thinks Ryan is avoiding her for some reason. She says she finds it strange that he chooses to sleep on someone else’s sofa and drive an hour to work rather than take his old bed at home and get a ride in with her in the mornings.

“Maybe he just feels like he needs his freedom, mom?”

Seth tries _really_ hard not to let exasperation creep into his voice.

“No, I don’t think it’s that. I think he misses Boston and I think maybe he needs a girlfriend.”

Seth thinks he snorts a splinter of pencil up his nose. “What?”

“Well think about it, he hasn’t had a relationship in a while and from what I gather, the last one ended pretty badly. Maybe he feels uncomfortable living here with me and Sandy because we’re a couple – he’d rather stay with you.”

If he weren’t hiding a secret the size of Utah, Seth would protest about the fact his mother just called him a sad, relationship-less bastard and insinuated that someone couldn’t just want to stay with him on the basis he has an exciting and effervescent personality. 

And yeah, there we go. Definitely a splinter.

“Um. .. ..yeah. Maybe.”

Now where did he put the rubbing alcohol? He knows he put one in the first aid kit he brought after the eighth or ninth accident. He knows it’s here somewhere.

“Perhaps you should have a talk with him? Don’t you know any nice girls to set him up with?”

Immediately Seth finds himself wondering whether Michelle the receptionist is single, then he shakes himself. “I’ll talk to him tonight mom, I promise.”

The talk doesn’t go as planned, however, because Ryan comes home bearing the gift of takeaway and the conversation gets lost in a chicken egg foo yung and sex on the living room floor.

Seth almost forgets until a few days later when Ryan comes home looking tired and wary.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t say nothing. I know you. What’s wrong?”

Seth kind of wishes he hadn’t pressed the matter when he finds out that there is a Newport Group company gathering happening tomorrow night and that Kirsten has set Ryan up on a date with a petite blonde girl from marketing.

“You said what?!” 

“I said yes. What else could I say?”

Seth puts down the copy of Spiderman he was reading and shakes his head in disbelief. “Um, hello? Boyfriend here! You could have tried saying _no,_ Ryan, I find it usually works when you want to answer in the negative.”

“Don’t be cocky with me Seth, alright?” Ryan sounds exhausted and he’s shrugging off his suit jacket but somehow Seth can’t hold himself back.

“I can’t believe you said yes! If you didn’t want to tell mom the real reason why, you could have at least said you didn’t want to date or something!” He knows he should really leave it here, but when has he ever had full control over his mouth?

“I’m not in the mood, Seth, okay?”

Something flashes through Seth at that, something more than just a little familiar.

“No, that’s not okay. We need to – “

But Seth doesn’t get chance to finish his sentence because Ryan has disappeared into the bedroom and the door has just caused one hell of a slamming noise to echo through the house.

It’s then that Seth remembers what arguing with Ryan is like, and he lets his head fall and thud onto the table top. The last time they were dating they argued once and once only, and after that when he sensed a fight coming on, Seth would do just about anything to stop it.

Thing is with Ryan, he just doesn’t engage with the argument. In fact, Seth hasn’t ever seen Ryan have a real argument with anyone (well, he has, but Ryan was more _punching_ than talking) because as a general rule, Ryan just tends to walk away when shouting and or long periods of in-depth discussion are required. It’s not his fault, Seth tells himself, it’s just that words aren’t really Ryan’s thing.

However, Seth thinks it must be the worst thing in the world to argue with someone who doesn’t argue back.

Of course he’d completely forgotten the ugly stalemate that outright ranting caused, he should really have treated the whole thing better. 

The night passes quietly, and when Ryan emerges from the bedroom he looks tense and irritable. Seth stares at the TV like cups and coffee pots aren’t being banged around in the background, and he breathes a sigh of relief when Ryan returns to the bedroom. His breathing space doesn’t last long though, soon the phone is ringing and Kirsten is enthusiastically telling Seth all about her plan and how polite ‘Gretchen’ is, and how pretty, and how well she and Ryan seemed to get on when they talked about advertisement campaigns last week.

Seth tries not to vomit on the carpet.

“It’s going to be great. Are you bringing anyone?”

A thousand barbs filter through Seth’s brain in that space of one second he’s given to answer and the only reason he doesn’t deliver any of them isn’t because he’s afraid of hurting his mother’s feelings, but because it might lead to him sounding like the jealous boyfriend and, even if that’s true, it doesn’t take away from the fact that Ryan still has them in a holding pattern.

“I’m invited?” Seth asks, flicking through channels on the TV and hearing Ryan pad softly around the bedroom.

“Of course you are! If you don’t have anyone to bring though, that’s fine. What about Tom? He seemed so nice.”

“Tom’s just a friend, mom.”

He reluctantly says he’ll go, though really he wouldn’t miss it for the world. If Ryan really is going with some girl, he wants to be there to keep an eye on things. But he doesn’t really believe Ryan will go through with it, he thinks that he’ll call in sick at the last minute or break off the date tomorrow at work.

His boyfriend wouldn’t really go to a Newport Group party with a girl so early on in their relationship. Would he?

\----------

Turns out Gretchen really is quite sweet. Well, she would be if she wasn’t hanging onto Ryan’s arm like a Titanic reject onto a lifeboat.

Seth finds himself seething in the corner nursing a dry martini because he’s driving and the slap in the face is that he can’t even get drunk and blot the whole thing out. Other than a few strictly needed words, he hasn’t spoken to Ryan since the door slamming incident of the previous night, and even though it’s the height of summer in California, the atmosphere in the car on the ride to Newport was worthy of the Antarctic. 

Ryan doesn’t look relaxed, or happy for that matter. He’s being formally polite, edging around people the way he used to when he first arrived in Newport from Chino. Seth wants to hit him for the act, and also for the fact he keeps looking over but then looking away.

He’d forgotten how frustrating Ryan could be at times.

Halfway though the night, Seth is nursing a soda water on the rocks whilst sitting at the bar when he feels a jacket clad shoulder bump against his.

“Are we going to ignore each other all night?”

Seth knocks back a mouthful of drink and wishes it were vodka.

“Possibly, and maybe for the entire foreseeable future. It depends.”

“I’m not exactly enjoying this, you know.”

“Oh my God! Really? You’re not? Wow, because I am!”

Ryan looks exasperated. “How about we just be civil with each other, then we can talk about it when we get home?”

“Talk?” Seth scoffs, “Like we did last night, you mean? When you flounced off into the bedroom like a _girl.”_

“I did not ‘flounce off’,” Ryan says through gritted teeth. “Now this is bad enough without us fighting too, so can we please just forget about it for the next few hours?”

It actually sounds quite tempting to Seth, and Ryan does look very good in that suit (it’s the tailoring – Seth is a sucker for a man in a sharp suit).

“Fine. But we’re discussing this on the way home.”

“Fine.” Ryan sounds strangely relieved, and orders another drink. “You want another one?”

“No, thanks. There’s only so much soda water one person can drink.”

Ryan attempts a smile and lingers at the bar so they can talk for a while, until some managerial looking figure approaches them and starts talking about apex designs.

In true Newport style, there is a flaming row which eventually breaks up the party, and Seth is slightly amused it has nothing to do with him. It does, however, allow him and Ryan to slip out unnoticed, and he’s feeling all friendly and relaxed until they get back in the car and reality hits him. It’s all a bit of a sticky mess.

“So are we going to sort this out?” he asks after ten minutes of driving in tense silence.

“I should have told Kirsten I didn’t need a date – I’m sorry.”

So Seth has received an apology and he knows that should be enough for now - that getting _anything_ out of Ryan right now short of a couple of grunts and the ‘I just need to sleep’ would actually be some sort of sign that Chrismukkah was near, but his greedy Nichol gene nags at him. “Don’t you mean we should have told them about us?”

Though he’s driving and his eyes are on the road, Seth can tell Ryan’s shoulders immediately sag. No one speaks for a good few minutes and Seth begins to wonder if Ryan has been struck dumb.

“Ryan?”

“I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

Seth almost slams his foot on the brake pedal and does an emergency stop for the drama.

“Pardon?” he asks in what he hopes is his most angry/outraged voice.

“It just doesn’t feel right at the – “

Unable to think straight enough to drive, Seth takes the next exit and swerves off the freeway onto a side road. When the car is stopped, he unlocks his seatbelt and turns in his chair so he is facing Ryan, who is looking uncomfortably out of the window.

“We _said_ we were going to tell them. That first night, in Boston, you told me it would be okay because we’d tell them and – “

“And we will.”

When Ryan speaks his voice is level and calm but it takes him a moment before he looks Seth in the face. He looks a little drunk and forlorn, but Seth knows he didn’t have much more than he did.

“I’m still trying to settle in at work. It’s strange sharing offices with Kirsten and Caleb, I’m finding my feet and I just feel like I need to buy a little more time, okay?”

It’s one of the very few times in his life when Seth feels genuinely speechless. Ryan is making _excuses_ the same way he used to when Seth would broach the idea of telling everyone when they were seventeen. _This must be what drug induced flashbacks feel like,_ he thinks before blinking watery eyes away and looking out of the windscreen at the car headlights fly past on the highway.

“Seth?”

It takes him a second, but he comes back to it and shakes his head. “What?”

“I asked if you were okay.” Ryan looks weirdly concerned and Seth has a sudden uncontrollable urge to hit him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. We’re going home, right?” He starts up the car and says nothing, letting the blink, blink noise of the indicator fill the car as he waits to pull back on the busy freeway.

Over coffee and Friends re-runs on the sofa later that night, Ryan leans over and puts a concerned hand on Seth’s thigh. When Seth looks at him, Ryan leans in for a kiss, and when a tongue brushes at his lips, he joins in.

\-------

Thursday night Seth is pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge to add to the take away Ryan promised to bring home when the phone in the living room rings. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Dude, where are you? I’m starving here. Work was crazy mad busy, we have this new intern who keeps fucking up the printing details for next months editions and today she – “

“Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to be late.”

“What?”

“I have to work late tonight. I’m sorry. You can call out for pizza or something, right?”

Seth drops the corkscrew he was holding onto the mahogany coffee table and sighs. When he speaks, he’s not surprised that the tone of his voice isn’t angry.

“But.. ..this is the second time this week, Ryan.”

“I know, but we have a deadline coming up. I won’t be any later than ten, I promise.”

He feels irrational being angry, it was only take out, not like he prepared a meal or anything.

“Sure.”

“Great. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

The phone clicks loudly back on the receiver and Seth stares around the empty space in his lounge. It’s not like he hasn’t had practise calling Dominos and dining alone.   
Besides, there’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on ABC.

He returns the wine to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of beer instead. It’s Ryan’s beer because Seth prefers girly drinks but he feels suitably lonely and desolate to grab the bottle opener and pop the metal cap before taking a manly swig. He grimaces at the taste then flicks on the TV in the other room and falls onto the sofa.

He’s in exactly the same place when he eventually hears the door click hours later. There is an empty pizza box on the coffee table, three empty beer bottles lined up against the arm of the chair and the house is in darkness apart from the colourful flicker of the television. 

Ryan’s shoes make an echoing sound coming down the hallway and Seth doesn’t even bother to turn around when he feels hands slip onto his shoulders.

“It’s past eleven,” is all he says, and keeps his eyes on the smiling faces on the TV screen.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things ran late.”

“Your pizza’s gone cold.”

“You ordered me pizza?” Ryan comes around the side of the sofa, loosening his tie and top button. Seth tries not to look but he does appear worn out. Frazzled.

“I figured you could re-heat.”

“Oh, thanks.” There is silence and Seth just _knows_ Ryan wants to mention the beer bottles. He’s waiting for it. “I ate at the office, though.” 

Seth feels his anger levels hitch up a notch at that, though he’s not sure why. He should be relieved, because in a fit of rage he ended up eating half of Ryan’s pizza anyway, out of spite when five past ten struck on the clock.

“This place is a mess.”

Slowly Seth turns to look Ryan full in the eye. He might look tired, but he doesn’t look mad. Before Seth has chance to retort ‘well clean it then’, Ryan gets up and starts doing just that, picking up the bottles, crushing the pizza boxes (like it’s easy – Seth pulled a muscle doing that once) and flicking on the light switch as he goes out to the kitchen. Seth squints from the sudden lack of darkness and sighs. 

He supposes that if there’s a deadline then Ryan has to put the time in. His mom does it too, and his dad never complains.

“Seth, you never washed the dishes from this morning!”

He has to grit his teeth to stop from being very sarcastic, which is something he is trying to lose. However, when Ryan speaks again, voice just behind him this time, he really can’t help it.

“I thought you said you would.”

“Well I thought _you_ said you’d be back for ten.”

He’d walk out of the room and go pee (because he really does need to – beer does that to him) but he doesn’t want to push it. He shouldn’t be mad. Ryan wouldn’t be late if he didn’t have to be.

“I said I’m sorry about that.”

Because Seth refuses to look at him, Ryan comes to squat next to Seth’s side of the sofa and he feels fingers slide deftly over his free hand on the arm rest.

“Seth?” A squeeze of the hand and Seth finally gives in and looks. “I’m sorry, okay?”

He can’t help but nod, he’s not in the mood for a fight and Ryan really does look worn out. It’s a good job he’s not actually _watching_ the TV because Ryan proceeds to grab the remote control, hit the power button and pull Seth up by the hand. He kisses him lightly, gently, and Seth feels the dull thud of his tension headache ease slightly.

“Come to bed,” Ryan whispers. They’re so close that their lips brush when Ryan speaks and completely against the way he was feeling ten minutes ago, Seth feels arousal flutter in his stomach.

“What about the dishes?”

“I’ll do them in the morning. Come on.”

Ryan doesn’t exactly have to drag him by the hand, but part of Seth feels like this is wrong. Ryan said no later than ten and glancing at the clock beside the bed, Seth sees it’s now almost half past eleven. But he doesn’t think about it as Ryan shuts the door behind them, pulls him close and kisses his forehead. Seth’s eyes flicker closed as Ryan’s kisses move downwards, over his cheeks, his nose and eventually find his mouth.

“Ryan.. .. ..” he whispers, meaning to say something. Anything, but he’s not quite sure what. Eventually the thought gets lost in willing fingers tugging at the edge of his t-shirt and his body takes over, silencing his brain.

\----------

Though he wasn’t particularly drunk, when Seth wakes up the next morning he has a killer headache. Ryan is still sleeping peacefully next to him, hands tucked underneath his cheek and hair falling untidily over his eyes. Seth can’t help but stare.

Last night was.. .. .. amazing. Though he does ‘rough’ pretty well, Ryan really excels at ‘tender’ in a way that is surprising. Seth likes to think of it as ‘love making’ but that sounds so sappy he would never say it out loud. 

However, Seth knows guilt sex when it rolls him over in bed.

There’s a thought nagging at the edge of Seth’s brain that he doesn’t like very much - Ryan is keeping something from him. Of course it could just be the paranoid Cohen gene playing mind games with him, he finds it likes to throw him a curve ball when he least expects it, but still there’s something wrong with Ryan that he can’t put his finger on.

Watching him curled up on his side, blankets drawn up to his chest, Seth doesn’t see how Ryan could ever be hiding something from him. He reasons with himself that the promises they made each other in Boston were as good as ‘til death us do part’ for Ryan because he doesn’t take anything lightly, and that he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be here. He also knows that even if he did put him through hell in those months before they went their separate ways to Berkeley and Boston, Ryan has always loved him. Brother, lover, best friend, whatever. It doesn’t matter. 

If he has something to say, he’ll do it in his own time.

So, leaning over carefully, Seth leaves a kiss on Ryan’s cheek then sits back to watch blue eyes flutter open. Ryan is a notoriously light sleeper.

In that warm state of waking up, Ryan smiles at him and Seth tells himself that whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.

Of course, Summer sees straight through that smoke screen.

She calls him early the next week having just flown in from Italy. Her month long holiday with Zach to visit his sister is over and as soon as she hits tarmac she pulls out her cell and calls Seth.

 _Literally_ as soon as she hits tarmac, because Seth hears cabin crew in the background politely asking if she would refrain from using a cellular phone whilst still on the aircraft.

“So he’s back in sunny California?”

“He’s been here for weeks.”

“And you never invited me over?” 

Only Summer could be incredulous that she didn’t get an invitation when she wasn’t even on the same continent.

“Well I’m inviting you over now,” Seth says weakly, jotting down plotlines for Elektra.

“Screw that, Cohen, you’re coming over to our place. Tonight.”

“We can’t tonight, Ryan has some thing on at work.”

“Well can he skip it?”

“Did I forget to tell you he turned into The Work Monster? If it doesn’t have blue prints he just doesn’t care these days.”

Summer sighs as though that news is the bane of _her_ existence rather than Seth’s.

“Fine, you’ll have to bring him another night. You can still come though, right? I have four new pairs of shoes to show you and Zach is going to cook.”

Seth hears a confused ‘Am I?’ in the background and grins to himself.

“Sure, what time do you want me there?”

“Seven. Don’t be late.”

Going to Summer and Zach’s place is always an amusing pastime for Seth. Tonight he takes wine around with him and listens while Zach tries to tell him about Italy with Summer adding pieces in here and there about catwalk shows and beautiful Italian men.

“I thought about bringing one back for you,” she tells him while Zach collects the dirty dishes. “But I didn’t think Ryan would appreciate it so much.”

“He’s never in the house long enough to notice.” Seth takes a mouthful of wine and immediately regrets speaking. He must learn to filter words between his brain and his mouth.

“Things are going badly?” 

Summer’s tone is caring but behind her eyes Seth sees a rage blackout coming on.

“Just joking.”

“Seth?” She’s looking sternly at him over the pristine white table cloth and when Zach re-enters to pick up the empty salad bowl he senses the atmosphere because he slinks right back out again.

“It’s nothing, Summer. Honestly.”

“You’re lying. I know when you’re lying because you perspire slightly and your neck starts moving like you’re having a stroke. What’s going on?”

Of course Seth knows how protective she can be (amongst his friends she is still referred to as ‘the mule’ because of the fierce kicking incident of three years ago when Ben Ackerman almost lost his testicles) and he really should have kept all this to himself.

“He’s just been busy with work, that’s all.” Summer narrows her eyes and waits patiently. “And.. .. ..well, I get the feeling he doesn’t exactly want to tell the parents.”

“You mean he’s been here a month and your parents still don’t know?”

“We’ve been.. .. .. busy.”

“You mean _he’s_ been busy.” Seth shrugs and turns his attention to his empty wine glass, because he hates when Summer stares at him like that. She’s all penetrating like she’s reading his mind. “Have you spoken to him about it?”

“Well, I told him I thought we should have ‘The Chat’ but he said he needed more time.”

Immediately, Summer groans.

“What?”

“The ‘I need more time’ line. Geez Seth, this feels so Senior Year.”

“Yeah, I know, okay? But it must be difficult for him. He’s just starting to fit back in and – “

“And you’re making excuses for him already,” Summer finishes for him, eyes narrow and sharp. “I can’t believe he’s doing this to you again, and you’re letting him.”

“He’s not doing anything to me again. This is different.”

“Really? Cause I can’t see it.”

And suddenly, its nine years ago and their back in the school cafeteria. 

"So. Who's everyone taking to the prom?" Marissa asks tightening her grip on Tyler’s hand. Ever since they had gotten back together their hands seemed to be joined with glue.

"Well...That's a difficult one..." Tyler laughs "...I might check out the cheerleading squad. Some are kinda hot.”

"Well, Chino here has set me up with a very worthy football player" Summer smiles. “Nothing. I repeat nothing is going to ruin my prom.”

“Oh, please. You and Zach are so on-again, off-again, the rest of us wonder how you’re the only ones not dizzy,” Marissa jokes as she jabs Summer with an elbow.

Seth thinks that must hurt.

"Ryan?" Marissa asks. Seth grins. This is it. It’s time.

"I...Uh...I don't know yet. I'm leaving my options open. I've had a few offers from a couple of girls. I think that Rachel may want to go. Maybe Lindsey if she wanted to. Toss of a coin I guess," Ryan laughs even as Seth’s smile falters. 

Ryan sees it, and Summer eyes keep shifting between them.

"God, Ryan. That's just like you," Tyler laughs. “You just have to please everyone.” And Marissa smiles with sad eyes. Summer is too busy looking at the expression on Seth's face and Ryan’s lowered gaze.

“What about you, Seth?” Marissa asks.

Seth stumbles and he struggles for a joke on the tip of his tongue but all he manages to get out is, "Oh...Um... Yeah, I'm...I'm not going. Excuse me," he whispers as he leaves, eyes looking everywhere except at Ryan. 

The table goes quiet.

He snaps back and he still doesn’t have an answer and he and Summer are just staring at each other before he considers himself saved by the bell when Zach re-appears with dessert. 

“So how are things at Marvel?” Zach asks, just to break the tension, and Seth willingly launches into a tirade about the new intern when Summer coughs loudly and both guys look at her.

“You’re not ignoring this, Seth. I asked you a question.”

“I don’t know, Summer,” Seth sighs, feeling uncomfortable. “Can we not talk about this?”

“So you’re going to hide your head in the sand like last time until Ryan is just about ready to break your heart and – “

She stops when _Zach_ coughs loudly. “How about we give Seth a break, huh Summer?”

“But – “

“We invited him over for dinner, not the Spanish Inquisition.”

Summer looks affronted for a moment but eventually goes back to her chocolate fudge cake and Seth flashes Zach a grateful smile before resuming his speech.

She doesn’t mention it again and Seth thinks he might be home free until they’re upstairs in her closet surveying her new items from Italy. After strutting around in a new pair of Sergio Rossi’s for ten minutes, Summer stops and sits next to Seth on the mini sofa in the middle of the room.

“Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

Seth considers playing the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ game, but it would never make Summer give up and wouldn’t buy him much extra time so he just shrugs and nods, acting non-committal.

“I just hate seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Miserable.”

Seth frowns at her then squares his shoulders. “I’m not miserable.”

“Yeah, the thing is, you are. Or at least you’re getting there.”

“It’s nothing, Summer.” Seth grabs her hand and she gives him a reluctant half smile. “He’s just working stuff out, that’s all. Mom’s always telling me how great he is when I speak to her - she’s really pleased with his work and I’m happy for him. If Ryan says he needs more time then I’m going to give it to him.”

“Why? Because he’s all you ever wanted and you’re scared of losing him?”

He’s not sure why, but Seth knows that that comment stings. “No, of course not. Anyway, there’s no rush, is there?”

The look that Summer gives him looks like pity, but Seth can’t make it out. She goes to say something else then stops, sits up straight and pats his hand.

“You know best. But I’m here if you need me, okay?”

He thinks about that on the way home. In fact he can’t think about anything else. Summer is like his relationship barometer – she always tells him when he’s in for nasty weather and she’s _always_ right. Of course she’s always right about most things, she’s Summer Roberts, and usually Seth can take that because he kind of appreciates the heads-up when someone is going to rain all over his parade.

This time though, the thought itches at him all over. She was so quick to assume that Ryan hadn’t changed, so quick to predict that this relationship was going to go the same way as their first one did.

But Ryan’s not like that anymore, he’s matured. He knows how much he hurt Seth last time with the ‘big dirty secret’ thing and he’s Ryan The Hero; he would never crush someone’s dreams _twice,_ it’s just not his thing.

This is not happening to him again. It’s just not.

As Seth pulls in the driveway he finds himself stupidly relieved to see the lights on in the living room. 

His mind returning to Summer, Seth locks up the SUV and sighs. He feels slightly guilty that he never told her about Gretchen and the Newport party, but considering what she said about Ryan asking for more time telling the parents, he can only imagine what the hell she would have had to say about that.

\---------

The next morning Seth wakes up with the reassuring weight of an arm lying around his middle, skin warm against his stomach. He just lies there for a moment watching the patterns the sunlight coming through the curtains makes on the floor, then places his hand on top of Ryan’s which is nestled near the base of his stomach and runs his fingers lightly over the knuckles. Ryan has hands that are far too soft for someone who worked construction for so long.

A kiss on his shoulder blade lets Seth know he’s not the only one who is awake.

“Morning,” Ryan yawns, and Seth turns over onto his back when he feels the body behind him pull away. Ryan is out of bed and grabbing Seth’s robe from the door before Seth can even reply.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“To pee,” Ryan smiles. 

He’s already out in the hallway when Seth half heartedly replies, “Ryan, don’t say pee.”

The toilet flushes and the door re-opens a second later. 

“You want breakfast?” 

“I want you to come back to bed.”

When Ryan grins in the morning, still looking tired and sleepy, Seth imagines it must be the sexiest image in the world. Combined with the day old stubble covering his jaw and the fact he’s _still_ refusing to buy a robe in favour of borrowing Seth’s all the time, it reminds Seth just why it was always Ryan in his fantasies all those years rather than the current boyfriend or Jude Law.

“Aren’t you hungry though?” he asks, advancing into the room, slipping his hands underneath the bedclothes and tickling at Seth’s feet.

Seth squirms and pulls his knees up to his chest, a broad, toothy smile over his face. “Hungry for you, maybe.”

“Again?” Ryan looks amused but sceptical.

“It’s the scruffy look. It slays me.”

“Oh?”

“Slays me like Buffy with PMS. Come on Ry, look. Warm.” 

Seth pats the bed beside him enjoying the tease and the smile it’s producing.

“How about I make breakfast,” Ryan walks around Seth’s side of the bed and leaves a kiss on his forehead. “ _Then_ I come back to bed?”

Seth lets him go because he’s a sucker for the smell of bacon and he really hates refusing food, especially food cooked by Ryan. He’s just stretching like a cat and filling up the whole bed when Ryan’s voice shouts through from the kitchen, interspersed with the occasionally splattering noise and the cracking of eggs.

“Oh by the way, I have to go to the office for a few hours today!”

Immediately Seth’s mood dies. He goes from content and slightly horny to feeling sick to his stomach but when Ryan appears at the door with a spatula in his hand, Seth doesn’t show it.

“I’m sorry, it’s just this thing I have to get done for Monday and – “

“It’s okay.” He smiles and hopes that it reaches his eyes. “Honest.”

“This is nearly ready,” Ryan nods behind him towards the kitchen, “If you want to sit up.”

When he vanishes back to the food, Seth drags himself into an upright position and takes a gulp of water from the bedside table. He’s not hungry anyway, in fact he feels pretty much like laying back down and pulling the covers over his head. He thinks of Summer and their conversation last night and he puts his head in his hands. When he hears footsteps just outside the door though, he shakes himself. 

When Ryan walks in with a tray holding breakfast for two, Seth looks the picture of contentment.

\--------

After Ryan has been gone for two hours and Seth has amused himself with internet porn, Playstation and old Jerry Springer episodes (in that order) he decides to take matters into his own hands and dials Ryan’s cell number on the phone.

It rings seven times (Seth actually counts) before he picks up.

“Hello?”

Ryan sounds strained and terse, just from one word.

“Hey buddy, just me.”

“Oh, hi Seth.”

“I just thought – well, I was sitting here thinking and I figured.. .. ..you’re in Newport, ten minutes away from Casa Cohen so.. .. ..why don’t I join you? We could see the ‘rents, catch up. In fact.. .. ..” Seth pauses. He can hear Ryan’s breathing on the other end of the line and it’s ticking away like a clock, waiting for him to speak. “I thought maybe we could bite the bullet, you know? Tell the parents tonight. I mean, I know it’s not going to be pretty, but – “

“Do you mind if we don’t?”

Seth isn’t sure if he’s shocked or if he expected it. He tries to be neither. 

“Sure, whatever.” Thankfully, he keeps the disappointment out of his voice.

“It’s just that things are a bit mad at the moment, I still don’t feel ready to – “

“Yeah, no, it’s fine.” Seth is nodding to himself whilst picking at a stray thread on his jeans. “I understand.”

“I’m really sorry, Seth.”

“Yeah, of course. It’s okay.”

There is a rather uncomfortable silence only interrupted by static on the line. 

“Well.. .. ..I’d better get on with this.”

“Yeah, okay. Um, have fun.”

They sign off with a suitably strange atmosphere, then Seth sits staring at the phone for a moment. 

This can’t be happening again. Summer doesn’t always have to be right about everything and Ryan is under pressure. He wants to be the best he can be, like he has something to prove, so he works hard for it. He always has, and Seth should be used to that by now.

Doesn’t mean there’s anything sinister going on.

Seth has just had time to make himself a coffee and spill the milk on the way back to the fridge when the phone rings. His heart leaps for a second but when he hears his father’s voice, he tries not to feel disappointed.

“What you up to, kiddo?”

“Nothing, just sitting around. Ryan’s abandoned me for the office so I’m all alone.”

“Well it just turns out your mother has abandoned me – shopping with Julie. I figured we could catch up, do some father-son bonding and eat burritos. What do you say?”

It is truly depressing sitting around the house on his own, and Seth knows that he’ll just be waiting for the noise of a car in the driveway or a key in the lock so he goes. He meets Sandy at a good Mexican place he knows in Manhattan Beach, flipping on his sunglasses as he gets out of the SUV and presses his key to lock it. Everywhere girls are walking around in skimpy bikinis and guys built like water polo players are hanging out in top-down cars. Seth feels slightly out of place with his morose mood and ‘Geeks Are Cool’ t-shirt but he manages to make it into the restaurant without getting his shoes pissed in. 

Sandy arrives ten minutes later, also with sunglasses on in some Hawaiian shirt that makes him look like he’s come straight from surfing.

“Son, how are you?”

They do the manly back slapping thing, chose their food and Sandy goes off to order before even sitting down. Seth waits for him, humming ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ by Keane from the old ‘Hopes And Fears’ CD he has in his car. The couple on the next table over are making and out and Seth has to turn the over way to stop himself gagging.

“Hey, guess who I bumped into yesterday?” Sandy is back, minus the shades. 

Seth shrugs and takes a drink of his Coke. “Ghandi?”

“Luke Ward. Your mother sent me to South Coast Plaza on some errand and I saw him outside Sephora.”

“Wow,” Seth grins, “What’s he doing back in Newport?”

“Visiting his mom. Apparently he’s getting married.”

The idea of Luke tied down to one girl makes Seth want to laugh, but after all the bullying and the mindless taunting, they’d became quite good friends. That summer in Portland isn’t something he likes to think about much because of the way he felt, but Luke was always there, pestering him to play football on the Playstation and filling him in on his latest conquests. 

“Married? Who to?”

“Some girl from Portland. He was asking after you, and when I told him Ryan was back from Boston he started planning some big night out for the three of you. Catch up.”

Seth would _love_ to see Luke’s face when he found out about him and Ryan, but somehow he doesn’t think that moment will ever occur. Maybe some things are best left secret.

They discuss Luke and his fiancé until the food arrives, then when they’re done Seth is feeling full and tired, leaning back in his chair. He goes to take a drink as Sandy starts speaking.

“So, you must be pleased to be getting the apartment back to yourself.”

Seth frowns over the top of his glass and gulps on the cola. “Huh?”

“Ryan moving out. I mean, I know it must have been nice to have him around, but you must have been stepping over each other at your place.”

The words penetrate and Seth instantly feels shock. He can’t show it, however, and he can’t exactly show devastation either, so he calmly puts his glass down and nods. “Yeah, I guess.” He coughs to clear his voice. Thankfully, Sandy is eyeing the dessert menu and doesn’t notice.

“You want a sundae? They look good from here.”

“Yeah, sure. Sundae. Great.”

Underneath the table, Seth feels his knee bouncing.

Moving out? He’s leaving? Or he’s planning to leave and never said? What the fuck?

Suddenly the room is spinning and Seth _really_ needs to go to the bathroom.

Sandy signals for the waiter and orders two large strawberry sundaes with extra sauce. Seth feels sick just at the sound of it, or it could be something else.

“So, Ryan told you about moving out then?” He tires not to sound forced, but he doesn’t want the conversation to fall onto something else. He has to find out some information from somewhere.

“Well,” Sandy shrugs with his hands, “Kirsten told me really. Though I don’t know how long it’s going to take, she’s determined to find just the right place for him, bringing home brochures every night.”

A kind of cold sweat panic that he wasn’t expecting settles over Seth and he takes another gulp of his drink, if only for something to do with his hands (which may or may not be shaking, he can’t be sure).

“Great,” is all he can manage to say. Thankfully, Sandy goes on.

“At least this way he’ll be closer to work, that drive in the mornings must be killing him.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seth stops when he realises he must look like a nodding dog.

“And it’ll be nice for you to have your own space again. Seth?”

He’s been staring off into space and now he has to explain himself. Irrational feelings of fear keep shooting through his brain and _literally_ things feel like they’re crumbling.

“Excuse me,” he says in a rush, and nods towards the men’s room. He doesn’t stop moving until he’s in the empty, shining clean bathrooms where he makes it to one of the stalls and throws up into the pine scented toilet.

It takes Seth a minute to recover, another second to make a mental vow _never_ to eat burritos again, then he goes to the sink and washes his face. His hands are officially shaking now but he knows he can’t go back out there looking like hell and not expect to get questions fired at him.

He has to compose himself, at least for long enough to make his excuses and go. His conscience pangs at leaving his father with two strawberry sundaes in the middle of Manhattan Beach but he just wants to get home, to bed. He really should have taken that ‘hiding under the covers’ option this morning.

Leaving the bathroom and pulling his shades back on, Seth arrives just as the waiter is bringing over their desserts. His stomach turns over slightly at the sight and he looks away.

“Uh, I have to go, dad.”

Sandy, who is looking expectantly down at his sundae, spoon in hand, looks up with a concerned frown that makes Seth feel like an even bigger pile of crap for running out on the cosy father-son session.

“Everything okay Seth? You look white as a sheet.”

“Yeah, uh, just got a call. From the office. They need me to .. .. ..” Seth gesticulates out to his car. “Sorry, about running out like this.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sandy is still frowning. “Call me later or something, okay?”

Seth nods, knowing he won’t. His guilt makes him pat his dad on the shoulder, but before Sandy can say anything more, Seth has left the restaurant and is back in the SUV, reversing out of the parking lot and hoping there’s no oncoming traffic behind him.

All he can think is, ‘Fuck, not again!’ It keeps repeating like a mantra in his head, only interspersed with a chiding voice telling him he was stupid to fall for this a second time. He should have known better, he should have _seen_ this coming. Ryan has a commitment phobia, he’s never been able to stay with anyone too long, especially not Seth. 

He’s fucking planning to leave him _and_ he’s lying to him. Well, Seth had it right with the guilty sex thing, anyway.

Breaking his train of thought, a car horn honks loudly behind him and Seth realises he’s diving in-between lanes on the freeway. He’s not in a fit state to control a car but he doesn’t pull over, instead he keeps going, foot further to the floor.

He just wants to get home.

He’s not going to cry or get mad or any of those other pointless things. He’s not even going to get drunk (though he does have a bottle of vodka in his cupboard and it’s not like the memories of freshman year are too far away to be recalled) he just wants to get into bed and forget. He wants to sleep and wake up and find he was asleep all afternoon instead of meeting Sandy.

Seth pulls off for Santa Monica and makes it to his apartment in record time. Not surprisingly, Ryan isn’t home yet, but Seth is glad for once. He thinks about putting the chain on the door but stumbling in through the door, throwing down his keys and jacket, he forgets. 

He pulls himself into bed after heaping his clothes in a messy pile on the floor and throwing his sunglasses on the bedside table.

Inside his chest he can feel something constricting and stabbing at him. His head is starting to ache and all he can taste in his mouth is regurgitated burritos. Seth knows he should at least get himself a drink of water but he can’t think straight, he just keeps remembering that first week at Berkeley, the feelings washing over him like sea water.

Unsure of the time, Seth eventually falls asleep with the covers pulled up high around his face.

\------------------

He wakes to find Ryan shaking his shoulder and for a second, Seth doesn’t remember anything bad.

Of course then it hits him and he his stomach sinks. Ryan’s concerned frown isn’t helping his ever increasing headache, either.

“What time is it?” Seth croaks, trying to get a look at the clock. He just wants Ryan to stop staring at him because it makes him feel exposed.

“Almost six. You okay? Sandy called me.”

Oh God, no. The scene in the restaurant, walking out on his dad like that.

Seth gets the sudden urge to cry but bites it back.

“Seth? You look pale. Are you sick?”

He manages to nod. Ryan checks his forehead and Seth keeps himself still to avoid pulling back from the touch. He feels nauseous thinking about the house; Ryan planning things behind his back. Is that where he’s been today? Looking around his new place and telling Seth lies about working?

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so vulnerable in all his life. 

“Can I get you something?”

“Water.”

It’s just a relief to have Ryan leave the room. Seth’s mind starts working on over-drive trying to think of ways to get out of this. He can’t be around Ryan right now but how does he say that? And if he keeps up the pretence of being ill then that’s just going to get his mom and dad involved, which will probably result in a visit to the doctors office.

He might need a therapist but he certainly doesn’t need a doctor.

Ryan returns with a glass of water and they sit in silence for a moment while Seth drinks. Even if he could get his voice to work properly he knows he would never approach Ryan about this because stupidly (and his mind is berating him for being this pathetic) some part of him hopes the house might be a surprise, for the both of them.

Seth sits up and pulls his knees up to his chest to avoid touching Ryan, where he is sat at the end of the bed.

“Sandy said you had some crisis at work.”

“I got sick in the toilets, I just had to get out of there.”

“Maybe I should call the doctor, he might – “

“No, it’s okay.” Ryan frowns at him. “I’m feeling slightly better now. Probably just some 24 hour thing.”

Ryan still looks suspicious but he seems to buy that one. “I should call Sandy and let him know how you are.” From out in the living room, the phone starts ringing. “Stay there.”

Seth wonders where else he would possibly go. He’s not the one who goes disappearing and sneaking around behind people’s backs after all.

When Ryan wanders back into the room, phone at his ear and grinning, Seth’s immediate thought is that it’s some new girlfriend on the other end. He avoids eye contact and instead stares at his glass of water.

“No, he seems a bit better now,” Ryan is saying. “I’m sure he’d like a visit though.” Silence then he laughs, “Yeah, and I’d like to see you too.”

Resisting the urge to ask who it is on the other end of the line, Seth climbs out of bed and grabs his robe. He’s in the bathroom cleaning his teeth before he realises it smells like Ryan, and the image of him wearing it earlier this morning lodges itself in Seth’s brain.

It sounds needy but he wishes it was the morning again. At least when he didn’t know about the house he was in blissful ignorance. If Ryan is going to suddenly go back on all his promises and leave Seth in a crumpled heap, he doesn’t want to know about it. Waiting for it to happen is just slow torture.

“That was Summer,” Ryan announces from the doorway. Seth nods into the mirror, brushing furiously. “She’s going to be here in about half an hour.”

He spits and rinses then stands upright. Behind him, Ryan is staring and wearing that suspicious/concerned look from earlier.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, taking a few steps into the bathroom and leaving the phone on the side of the bath to feel Seth’s head. Again Seth wants to step back but he tries to calm his heartbeat and just stands there. After a few moments, it becomes easier to look into Ryan’s eyes.

“I’m okay.”

He lets Ryan make him warm tea while he dresses and they’re just sitting down on the sofa when the doorbell rings. At first it’s all reunions, Summer hugging Ryan like they’re long lost family and Zach shaking hands. Seth just sits on the sofa and waves to Summer when she eventually spots him.

“Aww, Cohen!” He gets the obligatory squeezing hug then Summer plants herself at his side. “We brought you a bottle of something.”

Zach produces some Pepto-Bismol and Seth manages a smile. “Thanks guys.”

“You two want something to drink?” Ryan asks. Summer requests herbal tea and Zach disappears to the kitchen to help. As soon as they’re gone, Summer leans in conspiratorially.

“How are things going?” 

He considers not saying anything at all, but somehow he just starts talking. “You were right. He’s – Dad told me – Ryan is buying himself a house.”

Predictably, Summer gets just about furious enough to damage Ryan’s eyes with the heel of her Manolos.

“He’s what? That son of a bitch! I’m gonna – “

“Sshhh!” Seth throws his hand over her mouth and lowers his voice. “He’ll hear you.”

“He’s lying to you! He’s sneaking around behind you back and – “

“And I need time to work out what to do.”

“Time?” Summer frowns, “Kick his sorry Chino ass to the curb, you don’t need time to do that.”

“I don’t know what to do, okay? I need to think about this.” Voices approaching down the hall make Seth freeze and look behind him. “You can’t say anything about this, okay? Summer? Please?”

She nods reluctantly.

“Promise me?”

“I promise.”

“Hey Seth,” Zach is smiling, mugs of tea in each hand, “Ryan was just telling me about his renewed love for comics. We should start up the old club again.”

“Huh, yeah,” Seth grins. He tries to relax when Ryan smiles at him. 

“Just like High School!” Summer remarks, and Seth can’t miss the dirty look she shoots at Ryan’s back as he goes to sit down.

He should never have told her. This is going to be a disaster.

Somehow though, it’s not. Zach grills Ryan all about life in Boston and then talk turns to the wedding. Summer makes several jokes about Seth being her bridesmaid and Seth even manages some witty retorts. When Ryan excuses himself to the bathroom half an hour later though, Summer drops her fake smiles and hisses at Zach, “Get him out of here!”

“What?!”

“Get him out, take him for a walk or something.”

Zach looks at Summer like she’s gone mad – which Seth thinks possibly she has – and lowers his voice. “Summer, it’s _his_ house.”

“I don’t care. Tell him you want to walk on the beach with him or something.”

“But – “ The sound of the bathroom door opening cuts Zach off and he glares at Summer for a moment before schooling his face. “Hey Ryan! How about a walk?”

Seth almost squirms at the obvious fake enthusiasm in Zach’s voice and it’s clear from Ryan’s face that he’s a little taken aback, but he agrees anyway.

“You want anything while we’re out?” he asks, and Seth almost feels bad for talking about him behind his back, until he remembers The House.

“No, thanks.”

“Okay, see you later.” Ryan pulls on a jacket and kisses Seth on the top of his head before he and Zach go out into the hallway. As soon as the door slams, Summer’s claws come back out.

“The two faced, lying little bastard! I swear, I could – “

“Summer.” She stops. “Calm down.”

“But aren’t you even angry?”

“Of course I’m angry.”

“Well why haven’t you done anything? I’d have beaten him up by now.”

Seth gives her his best disbelieving look. “Summer, this is _Ryan,_ he could fend me off with one finger. The muscles haven’t gotten any smaller, trust me.”

“Well I’d have given it one hell of a good try,” she replies, swishing her hair, and Seth knows she would too. “So what are you going to do? Ignore the whole thing and hope it goes away?”

“No, of course not, I – “

“Because seriously, if you don’t get heavy with him on this then I will. You’re too soft with people you love, Cohen, you do anything for them.”

Seth can’t help but feel slightly insulted. “I do not!”

“Yes you do, you named your God damned boat after me. Then there was Ryan, who you lied to your parents for, lied to _everyone_ for. Then Ben, who you almost – “

“Yeah, okay, I get the picture.” He doesn’t want to hear any more of his faults replayed like some sick home movie.

“And now you’re going to let him walk all over you _again.”_

“No I’m not,” Seth’s voice sounds meek, and he doesn’t even believe it himself.

“So you’re going to confront him?”

He swears Summer should become a lawyer – she’d break the witnesses just with her stare.

“Not yet, no.”

“Why not?”

He feels a rage blackout coming on but his head aches too much to do anything about it.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’, Cohen? Be a man! Did you leave your backbone in the wardrobe this morning?” She pushes his lightly on the arm and Seth sways with the movement.

“I just.. .. .. I can’t. I mean, it’s _Ryan,_ Summer. You don’t want something for years, get it and then throw it away.”

Summer sighs and looks at Seth with disappointment in her eyes. He feels 40 different kinds of shit right now – maybe he is spineless.

“This isn’t your fault, you know,” she tells him, gently stroking his arm for comfort. “Ryan doesn’t know what he’s got if he’s messing you around.”

There’s not really much he can say to that, and Seth thinks he might be too miserable to speak really, so he just lets Summer lean over and hug him instead.

\-------------------

It would probably be a lie if Seth said he didn’t spend that next entire week waiting for Ryan to turn around and leave him. Either that or come home and find the place empty, Ryan’s bags gone and wardrobe devoid of wifebeaters.

Instead of that though, the week passes in a surreal kind of normality. 24 hours after finding out about The House, Seth felt some kind of weird acceptance grow over him, and now he finds himself just grateful for every day they have. It feels strange to him, like someone is dying but no one is mentioning it. He can’t help it but he doesn’t want this to end until it has to, so he manages to act like nothing is wrong, and when Ryan slips his arms around Seth’s waist in the kitchen or leans over for a kiss during the commercial breaks, Seth lets him have whatever he wants.

At work his head is most fucked up; he sends a copy of last week’s issue to the printers for publication and is only saved by the (now not so new) intern, who spots his mistake.

Ryan doesn’t come home late at all in the week, though he does get a strange call on his cell phone and wander outside to answer it. Seth just turns the TV up louder.

Summer calls and asks tentatively how it’s going, with an occasional lecture on biting the bullet and being a man, but Seth sees himself as straining tea from a tea bag, getting every last drop out. He can’t bring himself to be the one who wreaks this because it can’t be something he has on his conscience.

On Friday night they have dinner with the parents planned – Kirsten and Sandy coming to them instead this time. Seth might not feel like entertaining but Summer tells him it will do him good so he goes along with, feeling guilty that he never takes any of her other advice these days.

Ryan offers to cook but Seth wants take-out from ‘The Harbour’, Newport’s newest and best restaurant. He hardly ever gets down there so Ryan agrees to pick up their food and bring it home with him, as Seth has a meeting that is likely to run late. Ryan is also picking up the wine, and preparing an as yet undisclosed dessert.

It should be okay, Seth tells himself, though in the days leading up he tries to ignore the hopeful little voice in his head that is waiting for Ryan to say, ‘Shall we tell them on Friday?’

Of course he never does.

As expected, the meeting does run late on Friday afternoon and by the time Seth gets home it’s nearly six. He shouts for Ryan when he gets in the door but there is no car in the drive so he doesn’t really expect an answer. Pulling off his jacket, Seth showers and changes quickly, throws all unnecessary clutter in the closet in the bedroom and runs the vacuum around the lounge in a rather slapdash manner. 

It’s not much, but it’ll do.

By six forty five he is checking his watch. The parents have an ETA of 7:30 and Ryan said he’d be home for half six. Clearly there is something wrong, so Seth grabs the phone before thinking about it too much.

Three rings and it clicks onto voicemail, some electronic lady telling him that this number is unavailable right now.

Seth returns the phone to its cradle and paces in the living room. Ryan can’t be late at work because then Kirsten would be late at work and they’d have called. The traffic on the freeway was fine because Seth had the radio on with the traffic updates and though the 101 was looking like an over-large parking lot, Ryan’s route sounded trouble free. If he’s not answering his cell then it’s either switched off or he’s out of range, neither of which Seth can explain away.

Unless he’s already made his getaway.

Panicking, Seth considers checking the wardrobes for Ryan’s clothes. He didn’t think to look earlier and he feels stupid doing it but he goes through to the bedroom and tugs at the wardrobe handles.

Clothes all still there.

Seth breathes a sigh of relief he hadn’t realised he was holding, then goes through to the lounge and berates himself for being so jumpy. There’s probably just a queue at the restaurant.

Trying to calm himself down a little, Seth sits in silence for a few minutes before he begins twitching. It’s just a little bit too eerie for him, so shuffling over to the CD player he grabs Sufjan Stevens from the rack and skips to ‘To Be Alone With You’. Hitting ‘play’, the soft sounds of acoustic guitar melt through the silence and fill the room with a glow warm enough to match the dying sun pouring in through the windows.

Any minute now, Seth thinks, Ryan is going to walk through the door with his arms full of take out boxes and everything is going to be chaos.

It won’t be _alright_ because things haven’t been alright for weeks, but tonight will be okay. Tomorrow is a million miles away, after all.

He isn’t sure how long he sits there with repressed tension filling his limbs, but when he eventually opens his eyes, Seth spies the clock on the phone cradle – 7:20pm.

The stubborn voice in his head that’s been contradicting Summer for the last seven days finally gives in. _Yes, this is happening again._

It takes all Seth has not to scream and shout and cry and reach out and destroy things. The soft music in the background keeps on playing as he balls his fists and feels his fingernails dig into his palms.

Just then the familiar sound of a car pulling in the driveway is heard outside and Seth is at the front door before he even realises he’s up off the sofa.

When Ryan comes in he looks harassed and tired, but his arms are strictly devoid of take away boxes.

“Is the food in the car?” Seth asks. Even in his own head his voice sounds stupid and hopeful.

“What?” Ryan frowns. He’s missing his tie and his hair is a mess like hands have been running through it.

Hands that don’t belong to Seth.

Just standing there in the hallway staring at each other, that anger Summer talked about begins to rage through him.

_He’s been with someone else._

“The food,” Seth keeps his voice level, terse. “Mom and dad will be here any minute.”

Knowing Ryan as well as he does, Seth can tell that when his faces changes, he’s genuinely only just remembering.

“Fuck.. .. ..It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t bring anything? No wine? No food? Nothing?”

“Seth, I’m sorry, I’ve just been – “

Seth turns around and marches into the living room. He feels livid. His parents are going to arrive any second now and Ryan couldn’t even be bothered to keep up the pretence of caring.

The heart that has been growing tiny cracks all week finally breaks and Seth shouts, cutting Ryan off.

“You’ve been too busy setting up your new house, too busy getting ready to leave me _again,_ but then I suppose wrecking people’s lives must be a time consuming business.”

Ryan, not realising he has left the front door open, is now standing behind the sofa, face contorted into utter confusion.

“What? Seth, I just forgot to get the food. I’ll go back out and – “

“Yeah, why don’t you? But make sure you pack your bags first.”

“Bags? What? Seth, you’re making no sense.”

He wants to pick something up and throw it but he stops himself because that would make this into a drama it’s not. It’s real, and Ryan is doing his infuriating ‘calm and cool’ act. In the background, Sufjan Stevens skips back to the beginning and starts replaying.

“I get it Ryan, so you can stop pretending, okay?” He’s not going to cry. He’s _not._ “You don’t want to tell mom and dad about us because you don’t want to commit. You work late hours, you’re buying yourself a house in Newport, you can’t stand the thought of anyone knowing we’re a couple even though you _promised_ me this time. You told me, you said – “

Then Seth’s voice breaks and he has to stop. Ryan is just staring at him, but the confusion of earlier more looks slightly more like guilt.

“Seth,” he says in a very quiet, moderate tone. “I know how this must look, but – “

“Look?!” Seth shouts. “I don’t care how it _looks,_ Ryan, all I care about is how it feels. You fucking _lied_ to me. Again. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“Seth please, calm down. We can talk about this – “

“No we can’t, not any more. I gave you time; stupid me thought maybe you just needed to settle in, get to know everyone again but it’s no different, is it Ryan? You just can’t do it, can you?”

“Seth – “

“What is it? Don’t you love me? Are you afraid of coming out, is that it? Are you afraid of losing mom and dad? Because – “

“Seth!” When Ryan shouts, he really _shouts._ Seth thinks he feels the ornaments on top of the TV rattle. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

“Oh really?” He sounds bitter, and possibly slightly sarcastic.

“Yes, and if you’d just _listen_ for a second, I might be able to explain.” Though his voice is level, the usual calm (yet exhausted) is Ryan back again, Seth isn’t sure he can listen. His version of events is misty and patchy in places but he prefers it; the details are just going to hurt.

“What can you possibly say to explain this?” he scoffs.

“There's something I haven't told you.”

Seth hates that line. It reminds him of a thousand Jerry Springer’s where people announce they like to dress up in diapers or are dating their cousins. He definitely doesn’t want to hear this, but it doesn’t look like he’s got any choice. Off in the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees something move, but Ryan starts talking again and he forgets it.

“The house in Newport isn’t for me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ryan.”

“I’m not lying to you! Christ, can you just stop talking and _listen_ for one minute?” Yeah, that’s right, Seth thinks, shout at me because that’s really going to help. “I admit I asked Kirsten to find me somewhere but I was never going to use it myself; I’m renting it for my mom.”

“Your _mom?”_

“Dawn,” Ryan says, as thought Seth may have forgotten.

“I know who your mom is,” he says bitterly, “But why would you be getting a place for her? Or has she run out of money completely and come crawling for help?”

Ryan’s face changes from conciliatory to angry in three seconds flat. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“What? She _abandoned_ you!”

“She’s sick, okay?” Ryan hisses. “I’ve been trying to look after her.”

It sounds like a lie but it’s just a little bit too serious for that. His face falling, Seth lowers his voice. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She has cancer; lung cancer.”

Inside Seth is numb but he’s coherent enough to know that line merits some credibility.

“Is she.. .. .. Is she going to be okay?”

Ryan sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“No. She’s refusing treatment.”

“What? But – can’t you help her with medical insurance or something?”

“She’s ‘come crawling for help’ you mean?”

Seth blushes. “I should never have said that – “

“Damn right you shouldn’t have. She’s my mother, Seth, you’ve got no right to say anything about her.”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry.”

In the silence that follows, Seth stares at the ground and hopes maybe it will open and swallow him. He’s trying to think of something pacifying to say when Ryan speaks, his voice sharp.

“So you thought I was leaving you?”

“Well – “

“You thought I’d do that to you _again_ even after everything we said to each other? What, don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that, I _do_ trust you but – “

“But you thought I was going to walk out on our relationship?”

“I don’t know. Yes. I mean, I jumped to conclusions and – “

“What?” Ryan asks, livid. “When did I ever give you the impression I didn’t love you?”

“I.. .. ..”

“I can’t believe you think so little of me, you really think I’d risk losing you _again?_ What do you think, Seth? That I’m some kind of emotionless monster that ploughs through people’s lives causing wrecks and destruction.” 

“I just thought .. .. ..”

“You must have such a low opinion of me.”

He looks that fiercely hurt that Seth doesn’t have a voice to speak. He can’t take the staring game, and when he looks away he catches movement by the doorway again.

A glance at the clock tells him its 7:45 and Seth’s stomach sinks.

“Mom?” he says tentatively, and Ryan turns to look at the hallway, seeming as devastated as Seth feels.

Both Sandy and Kirsten come into view looking slightly sheepish even though it’s really not their fault.

“The door was open,” Sandy eventually says by way of an apology. In the silence, Seth realises the CD player is still going and as soon as he hears the line ‘I’ve never known a man who loved me’ he grabs the remote controller and hits ‘off’. Somehow, it doesn’t seem appropriate.

“Are you okay, Ryan?” Kirsten asks. Her face is kind, caring and it makes Seth wish he were small again. Things were always so easy when she would sort out his mess for him.

“Yeah,” Ryan nods. He attempts a smile but it’s pretty pathetic.

“How long have the two of you.. .. ..”

Sandy’s words hang in the air and Seth glances in Ryan’s direction before answering. “Since my trip to Boston.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” Ryan apologises. He sounds drained and worn out.

“Sounds like you both had other things to think about.” From the way she says it, Seth can tell his mom isn’t angry. Disappointed maybe, but not angry. Not for the first time in his life, he thanks whoever is in charge upstairs for her constant understanding.

The ensuing tension is broken by the shrill noise of Ryan’s cell phone. From where he threw his jacket over the sofa, he retrieves it and hits ‘answer’.

“Hello?”

Seth’s never felt more like he’s intruding than he does now. He looks down at his feet, out of the window, then glances across to his parents. They’re holding hands, gripping each other tight by the looks of it.

He wishes he could have that.

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” Ryan shuts the phone and can’t help but notice everyone is staring at him. “That was Trey; mom’s had an accident. I’ve gotta go.”

“Do you want one of us to go with you, sweetie?”

Ryan shakes his head and pulls on his jacket. “Thanks Kirsten.”

“Can I – “ Seth falters. Ryan is on his way to the door and when he turns around he shoots him a rather angry look. “Can I do anything?”

Again he shakes his head and he looks like he’s just going to walk out but then he stops. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he shrugs, tired again now, instead of angry.

“Whenever,” Seth tells him, “I’ll wait up.”

Minutes later the door slams and all three Cohens are left standing in Seth’s lounge, air thick with stress. 

Seth’s belief about his mother being a strong woman is confirmed when she comes over to him and just puts her arms around him. 

He’s never been so grateful in his life.

\----------------------

Sandy and Kirsten leave by nine, Seth having explained the whole situation to them slowly and in far more detail than is strictly necessary, but he wants them to know everything. Because if they know, then he feels unburdened, and if this is the end, if it’s over, then he needs to close it in the right way.

Sandy doesn’t say much, Seth gets the feeling he is shocked and Seth doesn’t blame him. He’s thought a million times in his life that surely this time his father will never speak to him again, but he always does and Seth comforts himself with that.

Kirsten tries to hide her disappointment that usually she knows all about Seth’s boyfriends but he’s been keeping one a secret. She’s not angry and underneath everything Seth suspects she might even be pleased for him, happy. But he doesn’t know, and he can’t put words into her mouth.

He’s just happy they’re both still speaking to him, and that the Cohens have survived yet another rough ride.

When they go, Seth starts cleaning up. He tidies away Ryan’s briefcase and folds up the tie he left, he cleans around the kitchen and puts a load of washing in the machine. He’s not sure when he became so domesticated, but it feels good having something to do, stops him thinking.

Maybe that’s why Ryan has been like a home help on steroids these past few weeks.

By ten o’clock he’s on the sofa with a large strong coffee; fucking up his sleeping habits but what the hell. He hasn’t eaten all night but strangely he’s not hungry, filling his blood stream with caffeine instead. With the lamp on in the corner and the faux fireplace giving a glow to the room, Seth sits and listens to an entire Elliot Smith album, mouthing the words to ‘I Better Be Quiet Now’ and thinking about the way the house would be if Ryan did decide things were over as of now. He remembers last time, when he first came home from Berkeley in Year One, he went around the house secretly divesting himself of all things Ryan. He ‘accidentally’ smashed Ryan’s favourite cereal bowl, threw out all the books Ryan had ever read and recommended to him, then forced every gift Ryan had ever given him on Summer, who put them in a big box for him and together they put it on top of her wardrobe. It was only a few years ago they’d re-discovered it whilst picking up some of her stuff when she was moving in with Zach, and they spent a nostalgic – if slightly sad – afternoon.

Seth doesn’t think he’ll do that again, it seems like too much of an easy way out, trying to forget. If he doesn’t remember then he doesn’t except any blame and he’s sure Summer’s therapist would tell him that was totally unhealthy.

When his coffee has been drunk, Seth gets himself a bottle of Mountain Dew and waits in the near darkness of the lounge. He won’t sleep, no matter what time it gets to, because he promised Ryan he wouldn’t, and as seen as it may be the last thing he ever gets to do for him, he won’t fuck it up.

Part of him thinks he should maybe call Summer and fill her in, but the time is slowly creeping around to eleven and he doesn’t much want to go through everything. His brain is (mercifully) leaving off the analysis right now, and that suits him just fine. He feels calm, in a strange sort of way. The music playing low in the background is lulling his senses.

Elliot Smith having run his course, Seth digs out his old Alexi Murdoch CD, which is battered and cracked on the outside case and slips it into the player.

As the clock rolls around to midnight, ‘Orange Sky’ is just starting and the scraping of a key can be heard in the lock.

Seth leans over the back of the sofa and watches Ryan come into view. He looks even more exhausted than before, dark circles starting to form under his eyes and the edges of his shirt un-tucked from his trousers. 

For a moment Seth just watches Ryan move, throw his car keys on the coffee table and fall onto the sofa beside him.

“How is she?”

Ryan sighs deeply and gazes at Seth through bangs that need cutting. “I waited until she fell asleep. She’s in a lot of pain.”

There’s not really much he can say, so Seth just nods. He wants to help but the only way he can think of doing that is reaching out and hugging Ryan, but he’s not sure what kind of reaction he would get, so he lets it go.

Alexi Murdoch sings softly about walking on a long road and Ryan realises the music for the first time.

“Wow, it’s been a long time since I heard this.”

“Reminds me of the pool house,” Seth says, “The way it used to get so stifling hot when the sun was high in summer.”

Ryan murmurs and nods in agreement. He leans his head back and shuts his eyes, Seth wondering whether he’s just going to fall asleep right there.

He doesn’t think he’s strong enough to carry him to bed, but he’d give it a try.

“Did you explain everything to Sandy and Kirsten?” Seth almost jumps when Ryan speaks, concentrating on the words of the song.

“Yeah, I told them everything. They were okay.”

Ryan just nods. It’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking when he’s just sitting there so quiet like that, but wasn’t that always Ryan’s thing? The quiet one with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Seth thinks they must have come full circle.

Just when he thinks they’re done for the night, ready for sleep that’s long overdue and bed (he’s ready to offer to sleep on the sofa), Ryan speaks.

“We need to talk about what happened tonight.”

His eyes are open now but they’re soft, and something starts to grow in Seth’s chest that tells him maybe everything might be alright.

“I’m sorry about the shouting.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ryan smiles weakly. A hand that looks heavy from lack of sleep moves over on top of Seth’s and two sets of fingers lace together messily.

“You don’t hate me then?”

The outright smile that Ryan gives him makes the whole ‘needy’ thing worthwhile, and Seth ends up smiling too.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

“Love me slightly less?” Seth offers.

“I don’t think I could ever do that either.” Ryan stares at their hands, his index finger lazily stroking Seth’s thumb. “We still need to talk though, about earlier.”

Seth nods.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Ryan breathes. 

Seth feels himself sinking into the couch. 

“How could you even have - I told you I’d changed, Seth,” Ryan says next to him and neither of them are looking at each other. “We both did. You should have trusted me.”

Seth just sits there. “I know.”

“I know I was avoiding things with Sandy and Kirsten but .. .. ..”

“You had something bigger to worry about. I get that now, but you should have told me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, for jumping to conclusions and not having faith in you. And for not just sitting you down and talking about it.”

“I’m not great with the talking,” Ryan says, half smiling. 

“I’m not arguing with that.”

Seth feels a squeeze on his hand and he wants to do everything, hug him, kiss him, make sure he’s warm and tucked up in bed and not hungry or thirsty. He wants to look after him and keep him safe, even if it’s only from Seth himself.

“Can we finish this conversation tomorrow?” Ryan yawns.

“Of course, you look exhausted.”

They both stand up at the same time, just as the final strains of Orange Sky are dying away in the background. 

“You want me to – ah – sleep on the sofa?” Seth asks. Ryan frowns a little and shakes his head.

“Definitely not.”

“So.. .. ..we’re okay?” Seth feels like he’s stammering because he’s so desperate to hear the right words. “I mean, we’re alright; me and you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies before leaving a warm, gentle kiss on Seth’s lips. “We need to talk about my avoidance issues and your insecurity, but we’re okay.”

The wash of relief that floods through Seth almost makes him need to sit back down again. He wants to grin from ear to ear.

“Cool,” he fidgets on the spot, “Awesome. The Seth/Ryan team rides again.”

Ryan gives him that look that tells him he thinks Seth is mad.

“Well, not literally _rides_ because you know, you’re tired, I’m tired, it’s late. But there’s always tomorrow. We could ride tomorrow. In fact we could ride tomorrow afternoon, if that’s good with you. And you know me, I’m always up for the riding, dude. We could ride through the entire evening and on into the night. What the hell, it’s the weekend, right? Let’s ride on Sunday too, we can – “

“Seth?”

He may look amused, but he’s still dropping on his feet, so Seth is quiet. “Yeah?”

“There’ll be no more riding _ever_ if you don’t shut up.”

“Right, shutting up.” Seth does the zip action across his mouth for effect.

And with that Seth switches off the CD player, Ryan turns out the lights in the lounge and they make their way into the tiny bathroom to jostle for position at the sink whilst brushing their teeth together.

For the first time in a few weeks, Seth gets a good nights sleep.


End file.
